Full of Hot Air
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Search the galaxy long enough, you're bound to come across a metaphor that encapsulates human existence eventually.


**Full of Hot Air**

By all rights, Desolace was a planet that shouldn't even exist.

Its designation was D-6445. Its name was Desolace, because someone had decided that "Desolate" was too simple a name for a planet that was anything but simple. Roughly the size of Uranus, it had an atmosphere of primarily hydrogen and helium. So far, so normal. What wasn't normal was that it was close to its sun – so close that its orbital period was a mere 36 hours. And somehow, despite that proximity, it had retained its atmosphere. So while _In Amber Clad _was in orbit of the planet, Miranda Keyes reflected that it was a bit of a misnomer. Yes, technically the frigate was orbiting Desolace, but it was being taken along for a ride around its sun. If anything, it was more accurate to say it was orbiting its star.

What was also accurate to say was that they could only stay here for a few hours. This close to the sun, the ship could only take the bombardment of radiation for so long. Couple that with a gas giant that was spewing out radiation of its own, if someone had accused her of committing suicide, she figured that the accusation would have some merit. Not enough merit to tolerate the insubordination, but still, merit.

"Commander."

She looked at Lieutenant Chavez. He didn't look ready to accuse her of attempted suicide, but the look on his face betrayed his unease. The same unease that she'd seen throughout the bridge. Same unease she felt, only she'd learnt how to hide it.

"Yes?"

He handed her a data pad. "Recon's in, they've plotted the Covenant ship positions."

Miranda took it. "How are the pilots?"

"Should be okay. It's a bit of a gauntlet, bringing a Baselard into a frigate that's between Hell and a hot rock, but meds should protect them from the worst of it."

"Hmm." She could only hope so, for their sake and hers. Suicide was bad enough. Sending people to die for no reason was even worse. Course, that had arguably been the case for over a quarter of a century, so who was she to complain now?

"Commander?"

"Give me a moment, lieutenant." She looked at the data pad, showing a rough readout of the star system. For now, Desolace and _In Amber Clad _were on one side of the sun, and so were the trio of Covenant cruisers who were looking for the human ship that had decimated their supply convoy a few hours prior. By her guess, Miranda supposed that if they left this little corner of Hell now, they'd have a solid chance of making it into slipspace before the ships moved within firing range. Still...

_You based your career on taking chances and you're backing out now?_

Leaving now would be a chance. Staying put would be a chance. Frowning, she traced a finger around the sun, from Desolace to the other side.

"We'll decouple in two hours," Miranda said.

"Ma'am?"

She showed Chavez the course. "Keep in orbit of Desolace for two hours. Then we do a hard burn and use the sun to slingshot." She traced a line, well clear of the sun, Desolace, and the Covenant ships within the system. "Then we enter slipspace, and we won't need to execute the Cole Protocol."

Chavez didn't say anything, but Miranda could tell he was uneasy. Specifically, more uneasy than he'd been a few minutes ago. "Something to say lieutenant, say it," she said.

"Ma'am, that's…"

"Risky?" she asked.

He nodded. "There's the radiation. Plus, if we don't execute the Cole Protocol…"

"Cole Protocol's needed if the ships have detected us. If there's reason to suspect that they have, we'll execute it. If not, we can head back to an Inner Colony and get back in the fight sooner." She handed the pad back to Chavez. "Run this through navigation."

"Ma'am." He was still uneasy, but this was her ship, and he was her subordinate. Even as the world broke down around them, that remained true at least.

_How long though? _Miranda returned her gaze to the viewport, still marked by the orange-yellow glow of the star. _Not asking to shine for a billion years like you Mister Sun, but still, awhile longer would be nice._

Chavez couldn't hide his unease. She figured she could handle hers, because for among other reasons, she'd grown up with unease all her life. She'd been born the same year the war started. Long as she could remember she could remember talk of "the Covenant" and "losses" and "casualties" and every other thing that informed a growing girl that even if life on Luna wasn't too bad, it was much, _much _worse out in the depths of space. When they'd sung about Mister Sun and about twinkling stars, she'd winced, thinking of what was going on in stars beyond Sol. By the age of ten, those songs had stopped, replaced by reports that the Outer Colonies were gone, and things were going to get much, much, _much _worse.

Which they had. Over fifteen years of things going from bad, to worse, to much worse, to the real possibility of human extinction within her lifetime. She glanced at Chavez as he walked over.

"You alright ma'am?"

Maybe she wasn't hiding her unease as well as she thought. "Fine," she murmured.

"Right. Well, navigation's run the numbers. Plan checks out."

"Trajectory or radiation?"

"Both."

"Good." She kept looking at the viewport.

"Ma'am, are you-"

"Oh look, there's the sun."

The viewscreen had already been polarized, but Miranda nevertheless noticed the change in lighting. As _In Amber Clad _orbited Desolace, it came round to face its star. And in turn, the star came round to face them. Not literally of course, but that was the way that orbital mechanics worked – it felt like the universe around you was moving rather than you moving yourself.

"Y'know," Chavez said, as the star came round to face them. "If we die here-"

"We're not going to die, lieutenant."

"…then at least we get to see this." He looked at Miranda. "But no. You're right. We're not going to die here."

She nodded.

"Could die elsewhere though."

Miranda scowled.

"I mean, it's pretty much guaranteed at this point-"

"Chavez, you've been on this ship for nine months, and I've never had any reason to doubt you," Miranda said. She looked at him, still scowling. "Was I wrong?"

"No ma'am. Just stating facts."

"Then stick with the facts that we need to pull this off, and need to exit the system. Which we will."

"Right. And then?"

"Then we keep fighting."

"Right. Of course." He gave her an idle salute before walking off. "_Fighting_."

_Bastard. _Miranda returned her gaze to the view port. She couldn't fault Chavez for having those thoughts, but she could certainly fault him for voicing them. There was a saying that loose lips sunk ships, and while in her experience it was the Covenant who did most of the sinking, there was no doubt that the same experience had told her that word spread quickly on naval vessels. Especially since the official word from Earth was getting more and more preposterous as it tried to paint a pretty picture of the war.

_No doubt when we get out of this, this'll be painted as a great victory. _Miranda smiled, thinking of the newsfeeds. _Supply ships taken out. Covenant ships crippled. Victory in sight!_

God she hated it. Throughout her life, she'd hated two things constantly, the first being the Covenant, the second being her mother. Right now, the BS coming from the UEG was in the running for the hatred trifecta.

_Could have been different. _She took a few steps towards the port, gazing at the star before her. _Could have been much different._

She didn't see herself as an explorer, but in a different time, in a different world, astro-cartographers would have loved this. Here was a planet that was violating every rule of planetary formation. Gas giants had been found closer to their stars than those of the Sol system, but never this close, and never with so much of their atmosphere intact. By every law known to man, Desolace shouldn't even exist. But then, there was the rub – FTL travel wasn't meant to have been possible. Terraforming wasn't meant to have been possible. Humanity had broken the bounds of the possible for centuries, nay, millennia, and if not for the threat of looming extinction, Miranda hoped it would continue to do so. Not in the way her mother had of course, but still…

_Wish we could be like you, _Miranda thought, looking down and seeing the browns and reds of Desolace before her. _Full of hot air, but able to back it up. Able to beat the odds. Able to still survive._

Humanity wasn't Desolace. Humanity was, at best, a Mercury – scarred, scorched, and doomed to be consumed by an angry star. Twenty-five years ago, it might have been full of hot air, but now?

Now, Miranda thought, it was left in the cold.

Just waiting to burn.

* * *

_A/N_

_This was actually based on an article I read about, about a gas giant being found close to a sun. Like, so close that its orbit was measured at around 36 hours. So, when scientists were asked how a gas giant could retain its atmosphere so close to a star...no answer._


End file.
